00100011

The Treachery of Impermanence

 

00100011. Who am I? Zeroes and ones. A code. For what? A reduction. Why? My distillation into a binary world. Two numbers in a sequence. A sequence? A chain of life. The genome of our universe. The genome of Me.

 

What used to be down is up. Our footprint, our identity, our stuff. We exist in a cloud rather than on the ground. Technology has tidied us up and hijacked us into an era of post-individualism. Where does that leave Me? Is this why everyone is scrambling to define their identity? Their spirituality? Their network? How do We fit into this new sequence? What do Our zeroes and ones add up to? What do our interconnected digital footprints mean for our future?

 

Art, 2018.
paper
dimensions: a fluid situation
Edition of 10, name your price
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But is it Art?  Is it Important art?  Will it stand the test of Time?  Is it worth the Ask?  Will I be able to sell it for More?  Who decides if it’s Art?   Who tells us if the Brillo Box is significant, or just derivative of the Soup Can?  Who’s in Charge here?  Hello??

 

 

Revolution, 2018.
uv ink on baryta paper, retroreflective vinyl, blackened steel, rotation mechanism, vinyl 45 record, iPhone flash [supplied by viewer]
18 x 21.5 in
Edition of 5
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What’s your beef?  What injustice crawls under your skin?  What wakes you up in the middle of the night?  What have you done about it?  Have you joined an online movement?  Why?  Are you missing out?  Are your friends all out there?  Or have you put boots on the ground and left the comfort of your bedroom?

 

Or do you … care?

 

 

 

 

Acceptance, 2018.
uv ink on acrylic, LED lights
24 x 24 x 4 in, Edition of 10
36 x 36 x 4 in, Edition of 10
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What do you post?  Why do you post?  How many times a day, a week, a month, a year do you post?  We all see what you post, do you?  Who are you impressing today?  Who are you scolding today?  How many times have you checked your feed today?      Did you get enough Likes?  No?  Will you take it down, do you    not like it anymore?  She didn’t Like your post?  Is she mad at you?  Does she still want to be Friends?  Was she ever a friend?  Maybe she just hasn’t seen your post yet.  Maybe.

 

One of the greatest forces of change in our daily lives has been the evolution of social media.  It has established not only how we interact as a global community, but redefined how we seek and find acceptance as individuals.  Rarely is something so blatantly intangible so powerful.  Its insidious tentacles float in the ether with its perfect fictions created by … us.  It grabs ahold of our psyches and our sense of self worth.  It asks us all, How do you fit into the conversation?

 

 

 

This Is Not A Cigarette, 2018.
uv ink on linen, gilt, silk, wood
32.5 x 22 x 4 in
Edition of 5
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The humanity in smoking is gone.  Lipstick-stained cigarette butts … disintegrating rolling papers spilling rich tobacco     fragments … decomposing detritus crushed underfoot, these all told a story.  The beautiful woman sitting in a Parisian café … the cowboy picking an errant leaf off his tongue … the teenager flicking his butt to the curb before walking inside. Vaping has killed smoking.  We as a culture now choose to suck on hard unnatural plastic tubes.  The perversity  of such technology to dare foster the ultimate surrender of both individualism and the individual.  Nevermore leaving our mark … our stories as fleeting as the vaporous plume that dissipates into the air.

 

 

 

Salvation, 2018.
Four panels, uv ink on wood, crystals
29 x 35 in
Edition of 10
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God is the ultimate zeroes and ones.  The all powerful intangible force to which we turn to define our morals, check our values, ease our conscience.  He too lives up there in the clouds, influencing our souls from above.  Does He have to fight for our attention?  Do we still care what He thinks?  Or are we all chasing a different apple now?

 

Which way to salvation?

 

 

 

Voices Carry, 2018.
Super-gloss archival Fujiflex silver halide print, acrylic
33 x 27 inches
Edition of 5
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Act I, Scene I:

 

Once Upon A Time, there lived a ravishing beauty with dreams of stardom…

 

AUDIENCE [with dread]:                 Uh-oh.

 

 

Act II, Scene III:

 

Our heroine rolls her lips on a tissue to blot her gloss before entering the hotel for her script reading. She is wearing her rose-gold-colored sunglasses…the elevator doors slowly slide closed.

 

AUDIENCE [with urgency]:             Oh-no. GET OUT!!!

 

 

Act III, Scene I:

 

CENSORED

 

Cut.

 

 

Yellow roses repped women’s suffrage in 1920. Cut to: white roses blooming in Hollywood a century later to rewrite history yet again. What right do women have to expect a Happily Ever After? How do we define a Happy Ending? What fairy tale do we read our daughters at night? Women are on the Move. Women are Rewriting the script. Fasten your seatbelts…

 

Fade to black.

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